


Universe Conspired

by NCISVU



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Child Abandonment, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NCISVU/pseuds/NCISVU
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little boy that the world’s given up on crosses paths with a young Marine who’s given up on the world. Gibbs and kid!Tony. Set shortly after Shannon and Kelly died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost in a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Canon suicidal ideations in this part. I'm using this for the 'family' prompt on my hurt/comfort bingo card.

_Two are better than one…_  
_If either of them falls down,_  
 _one can help the other up._  
 _But pity anyone who falls_  
 _and has no one to help them up._

_—Ecclesiastes 4:9-10_

**Part One: Lost in a Dream**

Twenty eight year old Jethro Gibbs stared blankly at the gun in his hand. He’d been sitting on the vacant beach in Southern California, propped up against a large piece of driftwood all afternoon. It was his family’s favorite beach; the same beach he’d camped at with his wife and daughter less than a year prior, before being deployed overseas. He’d known when he left that there was a chance he might not make it back but never in a million years would he have guessed he’d come home to an empty house and his wife and daughter in boxes, buried six feet underground. That simply wasn’t how things were supposed to work.

He twirled the gun around on his index finger, daring it to go off. He’d been contemplating eating a bullet ever since he’d visited the graveyard. It would be so easy to put an end to his misery and join his family in the afterlife. It wasn’t like there was anyone left who would miss him anyways.

Well, except for maybe his father.

His backstabbing, insensitive father that he never wanted to see, speak to or even think about again. The guy had some set of balls on him, showing up to Shannon and Kelly’s funeral with a date. Jethro could think of few things worse.

He flipped the gun around again, this time pointing it at himself. As he stared down the barrel of his weapon, movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye. He glanced up and standing in front of him was a young boy, five, maybe six years old at the most. His thin frame made him look taller than he actually was and he was covered in sand from his light brown hair all the way down to the toes poking out of the shoes he was wearing.

“Hi,” the little boy said quietly, waving unsurely at Jethro as he inched closer to the bonfire.

“Hi,” Jethro mimicked. He didn’t really give the kid much thought. Surely his mom or dad or whoever he’d come to the beach with would come looking for him shortly.

“What’re you doin’ with that gun?” the child asked, plopping down close to Jethro when the man didn’t shoe him away.

The Marine had almost forgotten he was holding the gun. “Nothin’,” he grunted, engaging the safety before tucking it away, out of the boy’s sight. “Where’s your mom?”

A sadness that no child should know crossed the little boy’s face and he pointed up at the sky.

Jethro decided that probably meant she was either dead or on an airplane and the second option wasn’t very likely. He didn’t ask for clarification. He had enough heartache of his own without adding the little boy’s trouble on top of it. That only made him hate himself more though.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Towey.”

“Tony?”

The boy confirmed with nod at the same time his body jerked in a shiver. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, taking the warmth of the day with it as the last bit of light faded from the sky.

Jethro frowned at the sight. “I’m Jethro,” he said, holding his hand out for a handshake. After shaking the child’s hand, Jethro didn’t let go but instead lifted the child’s tiny, shivering frame up and settled him between his legs. “Gets chilly pretty fast when the sun goes down, huh?” he commented, reaching behind the piece of driftwood he was leaning against and grabbing another piece to add to the fire.

Tony nestled deeper into the embrace, soaking up Jethro’s body heat, a move that caught the man off guard at first but soon had him slipping into dad mode and holding the child tighter.

“How’d you get here, Tony?” he asked conversationally. In his current state of mind he wasn’t thinking anything strange about his young visitor or even wondering if anyone was searching for him. The two were simply sharing an evening on the same beach.

“Onna plane, inna car, onna bike,” Tony answered.

“Are you on vacation?” It was a strange place to run into a tourist. The beach wasn’t popular with tourists or even with locals, for that matter. It was too rocky for surfing or swimming.

“I dunno,” Tony answered with a shrug. “Nobody telled me.”

The little boy let out a jaw cracking yawn which caused Jethro to yawn too. Being depressed was exhausting.

Tony rested his head back against Jethro’s chest and snuggled in even more. “Jeshro, you tell me a bedtime story?”

_“Daddy. Come on, Daddy! Tell me a bedtime story. Please!”_

_Jethro’s eyes slipped closed as he was taken back in time to a memory of his little girl dragging him through their small house on base. She scurried into her bed, scooting all the way over to the wall so there was room for her daddy. It wasn’t until after Jethro had stretched out next to his only child and cuddled her to his side that he realized he hadn’t grabbed a book but he was too comfortable to move and Kelly had already cuddled up against him. He closed his eyes and held her tighter as he let his imagination go._

_“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess…”_

The memory quickly lulled him to sleep and whisked him away to a world void of his overwhelming grief, leaving him unaware that Tony was also sound asleep.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Jethro woke with a start, confused about where he was and why he was so cold. A quick glance around told him he was safe on a beach in California, not far from his home. Sometimes when he woke, he couldn’t even remember which country he was in. As a Scout Sniper for the Marine Corps he traveled often. It wasn’t unusual to end up in a different country every night for days on end.

He looked on either side of him and the depression set in again immediately when he realized that not only were Shannon and Kelly not there with him that time but that they never would be again. The only one around was the little boy from the previous evening, still curled up between his legs with his head resting on the Marine’s strong thigh.

Jethro managed to wiggle out from under Tony without waking him and easily brought the hot embers back to life with some coconut husks and more of the driftwood scattered around. Once the fire was taken care of and he made sure Tony wasn’t going to roll into it, he limped down to the water to empty his bladder. Getting so cold the night before had really left his busted up knee feeling sore and achy but he couldn’t use his crutches on the sand.

He’d just started relieving himself when Tony moved in next to him, pants missing completely, and did the same thing.

“Mornin’,” Jethro grunted, failing at his attempt to not sound like a bear. He hadn’t thought to bring along his kettle to make coffee or maybe he just hadn’t planned on still being alive that morning. He wasn’t sure which.

“Hi,” Tony replied sleepily, scratching at his legs. “I itchy,” he told the man.

After finishing up and tucking himself away, Jethro gave Tony a closer look and realized it wasn’t just his clothes that were covered in sand, his entire body was. He winced in sympathetic pain, realizing Tony must’ve played in the water and then sat or laid down in the sand before drying completely. He felt guilty for not realizing it the night before instead of wallowing in his own self-pity.

After quickly scanning the beach to make sure they were still alone, Jethro stripped down to his skivvies then pulled Tony’s t-shirt over his head and tossed their clothes far enough up the beach that they wouldn’t get wet or washed away by the high tide.

“Ever take a bath in the ocean, buddy?”

“I will drown,” Tony told the man. He didn’t have a clue how to swim and the ocean was a lot bigger than he was.

“I won’t let that happen,” Jethro promised as he scooped the boy into his arms and limped towards the water. “The water’ll wash all that sand off and you won’t itch as bad.”

Tony’s grip tightened as soon as his little toes touched the water. “Jeshro,” he whimpered unsurely, “I scared.”

“Just hold on to me,” Jethro replied gently. “I’ve got you.” He held the boy closer, letting a small wave pass by them. Caring for Tony had somehow taken his mind off his own loss and refocused his energy.

“It’s warm,” Tony noticed. The water was much warmer than the morning air around them. Tony let himself relax and even smile as the waves pushed them around, washing the sand from his body.

The little boy’s giggles brought a soft smile to Jethro’s face too and helped ease some of the heartache that had settled deep in his soul. “Does it feel good to get some of that sand off of you?”

Tony nodded enthusiastically, his giggles getting louder as the waves grew bigger. The bright smile lighting up his face was both heartwarming and heartbreaking for Jethro as he remembered his little girl’s smiles and suddenly missed her even more.

As the sand was washed away, Jethro noticed the red, bumpy rash it had left behind and immediately slipped into dad mode. “Kelly used to get rashes like this too,” he told the child. “We’ll put some aloe on it and you’ll be good as new.”

“Who Kelly is?”

Jethro swallowed hard, not realizing what he’d said until Tony asked the question.  “Kelly was my daughter.”

Tony looked around for the girl but didn’t see any sign of her. “Where she is?”

Jethro simply frowned and pointed up at the sky.

“Oh,” Tony whispered. He knew exactly what that meant because his mommy was up there too.

When the solemn mood interrupted the fun, Jethro carried Tony out of the water and dried himself and the little boy off as best as he could with his undershirt. He hadn’t brought a beach towel or even a change of clothes. He really hadn’t come prepared for the beach at all. Once they were as dry as they were going to get, he removed his wet underwear and tugged his jeans on.

“Hang on, big man,” he said when he saw Tony trying to get his pants on. “If you put those back on, you’re just gonna get all sandy and itchy again. Let’s put some aloe on you and then you can wear one of my shirts.”

“’kay.”

After Tony was all lathered up and dressed, Jethro grabbed his fishing pole and tackle box from the back of his truck, took Tony’s hand in his and led him out onto the short dock that hadn’t seen a boat in decades. “You hungry, Tony?”

Tony looked up at his new friend and nodded cautiously. He was actually starving but didn’t really Jethro to know just how hungry he was. His father expected him to be content no matter what and with such a limited male influence in his young life Tony didn’t see any reason for Jethro to be any different.

“Let’s catch us a fish,” Jethro said.

Tony watched curiously as Jethro showed him how to bait the hook and cast the line way out into the water then they both settled in and waited. Tony’s interest in the activity had Jethro grinning as he reached down and rubbed his hand over the boy’s messy, still damp hair.

“Who do you live with, Tony?”

Tony glanced up at Jethro, unconsciously arching his shoulders in a defensive posture. “Daddy,” he whispered.

“Where do you and Daddy live?”

“In a York.”

“A York? In New York?”

Tony nodded.

“Do you live in New York City where there’s lots of tall buildings and cars and people?”

“Yeah. Inna big, big house onna top of a building.”

A penthouse. It had to be a penthouse but Tony couldn’t have been any less enthusiastic about the top notch living arrangements if he tried. Jethro doubted he would be very happy if he were surrounded by the concrete jungle when he was that age either. “You’re a long way from home, kiddo.” The reality of the situation was finally beginning to set in for the Marine. It was clear that no one was going to come looking for the boy. Where was Tony’s father? Was there a massive search taking place that he didn’t know about because he was camped out on the beach? How did the kid end up so far from home in the first place?

“Is I in trouble?” Tony asked when Jethro grew quiet.

Jethro looked down at Tony and realized his little body was trembling. He wrapped his arm around him and smiled reassuringly. “You’re not in trouble, buddy. I’m sure your dad’ll just be happy to have you home safe and sound.”

“Jeshro,” Tony stuttered quietly, “we eat first?”

“Sure, kid,” Jethro answered. “Look, I think we got a bite.”

Jethro helped Tony reel in their catch then showed him how to scale it, clean it and filet it. They cooked it in a cast iron skillet over their fire then both of them dug in. Neither had eaten much over the past couple days.

After breakfast the two made one last potty run, Jethro kicked sand over their dying fire and cleaned up the few things he’d brought along then they headed back towards his truck. Jethro couldn’t help but notice that Tony seemed to be getting more and more nervous as he opened the driver side door and lifted the boy into the cab.

“Scoot on over and buckle up, big man,” he said as he found a t-shirt that had been in his truck for who knew how long and pulled it over his head. It didn’t smell _too_ terrible so it would have to do until he made it home. He climbed in beside the boy, started the engine and immediately turned the radio on, listening for any reports of missing children.

With a little help from Jethro, Tony got his seatbelt buckled then sat tall next to the man, wondering what was going to happen next. When he’d approached Jethro the night before he’d just been looking for a little warmth from the fire. He never suspected the guy was going to take him somewhere but he didn’t have anywhere else to go so it seemed okay. “Where we’s goin’? You takin’ me back to a York?”

“New York’s on the other side of the country, buddy,” Jethro replied. “That’d be a long drive. We’re gonna go down to the police station and see if anyone reported you missing. I bet your dad’s looking for you.”

Tony’s hand fisted tighter around his seatbelt and his leg started wiggling without his permission. He knew his daddy wasn’t looking for him and he knew the man wouldn’t be happy to see him. His daddy was gonna be angry when he showed up at home again. He was so busy worrying about his dad that he didn’t notice Jethro’s hand and jumped when it wrapped around his much smaller hand and gently squeezed.

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Nuthin’,” Tony lied.

Jethro held Tony’s hand all the way to the police station then, despite his bum knee, he lifted the frightened boy’s shaking body into his arms and limped into the building where the receptionist sent them to waiting room while she summoned a detective.

"How long we have to sit here, Jeshro?" Tony whispered.

"I don't know, bud," Jethro answered. "Shouldn't be too long."

Tony kicked his legs back and forth, looking around the sparsely decorated room as he sat patiently next to his new friend. He smiled when the man draped an arm across the back of his chair and leaned back against it. Jethro responded by tousling his hair and playfully tickling Tony’s neck, hoping to help the child relax.

"Jethro Gibbs?"

"That's us," Jethro replied, raising his hand so the detective at the door would know who he was. His limp had him moving slower than he would’ve liked but he was sick of the crutches constantly getting in his way. He could deal with the pain. He stood and offered his hand to Tony then the two slowly followed the patient detective to a quiet room at the end of a long hallway.

"What happened to your leg?" the detective asked curiously as he set a bottle of chocolate milk in front of Tony and a cup of steaming coffee in front of Jethro.

"Uhh... land mine," Jethro answered reluctantly. "Kuwait."

The detective nodded sympathetically and dropped it. "So what's going on, guys?" he asked instead, his tone and body language friendly and open.

Jethro recounted the story of Tony finding him on the beach the previous evening, leaving out the part about why he was really there. Despite the strangeness of falling asleep without a second thought about the young child wandering around without any adult supervision, the detective seemed to buy Jethro's story without hesitation. He asked Tony a few questions but didn't get much out of the little boy. Tony tucked himself up against Jethro's side and sat quietly, watching and listening to everything the two men were saying and doing.

"Okay," Detective Zachariah said once he was done listening and asking questions, "I'm going to put a call in to child services and we're gonna figure this out. Okay, guys?"

"Sounds good," Jethro said, patting Tony's back reassuringly.

"If I could get Tony's clothes from you, Gunny. It’s standard procedure."

"Sure," Jethro said. "They're out in my truck."

"Tony, I'm going to send you with this pretty detective," Zachariah said as another detective entered the room. "She's going to get you something to eat and we'll be right back. Okay?"

"Okay, bud?" Jethro asked.

Tony looked from the lady detective to Jethro and nodded his head. He didn't have a clue what was going on but he didn't feel like he could say no and the guy detective had said Jethro would be right back.

"Good man," Jethro said proudly. He watched as the female detective led Tony out of the room then limped along next to Detective Zachariah, out of the building to his truck. "What's gonna happen to Tony now?"

“We’ll work with child services to find Tony’s dad and figure out what’s going on and how Tony got all the way out here,” Zachariah answered. “They’re probably here on vacation and Tony probably wandered off last night. They might not even know he’s missing yet.”

“Does that stuff really happen?” Jethro asked, trying to imagine his Kelly being gone all night and him not realizing it.

“More than you would think,” the detective replied. “We’ll get it all figured out and make sure Tony’s safe.”

Jethro nodded, accepting the explanation. He watched as the detective collected Tony's clothing and bagged it up in an evidence bag. "I'm gonna run across the street to Walmart and get Tony some clothes. Will you make sure he knows I'll be right back?"

"Sure," the detective said. "You don't have to come back if you don't want to. We have everything we need from you."

"I'd like to wait with him, if that's okay," Jethro said.

"Of course," Detective Zachariah said. "I just wanted to give you your options. I'm not sure when you're due back on base."

Jethro chuckled cynically. "I'm on extended medical leave," he explained, purposefully leaving out the part about him most likely never seeing active duty again. He'd already lost enough, he wasn't ready to admit to losing his career—his livelihood. At least not yet.

"Just let Kim at the front desk know you're with Tony when you get back and I'll make sure she knows where to send you."

"Thanks, Detective."

Less than thirty minutes later Jethro was back at the police station, shopping bag in one hand, being led to the room where Tony was waiting. He found himself growing uneasy about the situation and wishing he’d just taken Tony home with him instead of to the police station but he knew that was unreasonable. He was so messed that less than twenty four hours prior he’d been one finger pull away from leaving his brains all over the beach. On top of that he was on the verge of being medically discharged from the military. He had nothing left. He was in no position to take care of a child—especially a child who already had a family.

He wrote it off as some sort of sick attempt to try to replace his own child and tried to put it out of his mind. It scared him that he could even have such thoughts.

"How ya doin', booger?" he asked, smiling at the child as he entered the room. The female detective followed the receptionist out, leaving him alone with Tony.

"You were gone a long time," Tony replied worriedly.

"Sorry, kiddo. Got ya something." Jethro was confused when Tony seemed to get uncomfortable.

“I don’t have any monies,” Tony told the man shamefully.

Jethro’s smile was easy as he reached out and lovingly tweaked the child’s nose. “Did I ask for any?”

The boy grinned shyly and shook his head. "What is it?" he asked.

Jethro pulled a small, fluffy dog out of the shopping bag and danced it around on the table in front of Tony before handing it to him. It wasn't much but hopefully it would offer the child some comfort until he made it home.

"You got it for me?"

"I did," Jethro answered. "He looked lonely. He looked like he needed a little boy to take care of him. Think you can do that?"

Tony smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Let's get you dressed," Jethro said, feeling accomplished with his choice of stuffed animal. Kelly had always found comfort in her stuffed animals too. In fact, she'd had so many she could barely squeeze into bed with all of them but she refused to let any of them sleep on the floor. She would’ve slept on the floor before she ever let that happen.

He dumped the clothing he'd bought out onto the table and cut the tags off with the knife he always carried with him. After helping the little boy get dressed, he settled in to wait.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Jethro and Tony were halfway through the pizza they'd ordered in the middle of the afternoon when Emily Hopkins entered the room, followed by Detective Zachariah. Tony stopped chewing mid bite and Jethro dropped what was left of his slice into the lid of the pizza box. Tony scooted closer to Jethro as introductions were made and Jethro found himself growing more and more attached to the child who seemed to trust him with his safety.

"Emily's here from child services," Detective Zachariah explained to Tony. "She's going to find you a place to stay while we keep trying to find your daddy, Tony."

Tony looked up at Jethro who smiled reassuringly at him. The Marine was doing his best not to get too attached but the vulnerability of the little boy combined with the trust he seemed to have in him was making it damn hard. He just kept telling himself that Tony had a family who he was better off with and that there was probably an innocent explanation for him turning up, alone, on the beach.

“Emily seems pretty nice, huh, kiddo?” Jethro asked.

Tony slipped a shaky hand into Jethro’s as he looked over at the lady. He didn’t want to go with her but he was just a little guy and didn’t have much of a choice. And his father had taught him to obey without question or resistance. He nodded in response to Jethro’s question.

“I bet you’re ready to get outta here,” Emily said, kneeling down to Tony’s level right in front of him.

“I go back to Jeshro’s beach?” Tony suggested.

“Jethro’s a Marine, Tony,” Detective Zachariah explained when he saw that Jethro was struggling with how to respond. “He travels all over the world and keeps people safe.”

Jethro put his arm around Tony and hugged the child tightly. He was trying to keep it together but damn it, it felt like he was losing another child. This one wasn’t his, though. He told himself one more time that Tony had a loving family somewhere and they were missing him. “You’re gonna be okay,” he promised the little boy as he held him. “Emily’s gonna help you get back to your family and she’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Tony nodded against the Marine’s chest, even though he didn’t like what was happening one bit. Maybe Jethro would come back to him again though, just like he’d come back earlier that day after leaving. Maybe if he just waited long enough, the man would come back after he was done traveling and keeping people safe. Maybe then he would keep Tony safe.

“He has a rash from the sand,” Jethro told Emily. “It needs aloe on it a few times a day and it should be kept dry. He’s too damn skinny. He needs some good meals in his belly.”

“We’ll take good care of him,” the woman replied with a kind, reassuring smile.

“I’m gonna miss you, big man,” Jethro whispered into Tony’s hair as he hugged the boy tightly.

Tony tried to be brave but he couldn’t stop the tears from overflowing onto his cheeks. Jethro wiped them away with a swipe of his thumb and pressed a kiss to the wet path they’d left behind on the little boy’s cheek as his subconscious flashed back to his own daughter, a little older than Tony, who’d stood, crying in the driveway as he’d pulled away and headed for Pendleton. Kelly’s cries for her daddy mixed with Tony’s cries for ‘Jeshro’ as the boy was whisked away by the child services worker left the Marine feeling lost and even more alone.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Jethro lifted a single finger when the bartender looked in his direction and the attentive man refilled his bourbon, neat, without a word. The young Marine had gone from trying to kill himself on the beach with his service weapon to attempting to drink himself to death at a local bar and he’d started right after leaving the police station without Tony so he was well on his way.

Behind him, the sound of cowboy boots crept closer before a man slid onto the barstool next to him and ordered a shot of whiskey in a gruff voice that was somehow familiar to Jethro, even in his drunken haze.

“Special Agent Franks,” Jethro managed to get out after glancing over at the man.

“Gunny,” Mike greeted. He nodded towards Jethro’s glass with his head. “Whatcha lookin’ for at the bottom of that glass?”

Jethro looked into his glass but he was too far gone to understand what the man was asking him.

“That’s only gonna make you more miserable,” Mike continued. “Trust me. I know.”

“You don’t know sssshit,” Jethro stuttered, stumbling over the s. The Marine once again raised his finger at the bartender but when the man came over to refill his glass, Mike covered it with his hand.

“He’s had enough,” the investigator told the bartender.

“You’re not my mother,” Jethro said angrily.

“I ain’t your daddy either but I like you enough to cut you off, Gunny. You don’t need any more of that. It’s just gonna make you even more miserable than you already are.”

Jethro tried to jerk his glass free so the bartender could fill it up again but he was so unsteady it landed on the floor behind the bar with a crash which only made him angrier. His scowl was met by Mike Franks standing tall in front of him, daring him to make a move. Jethro wasted no time stumbling to his feet and unapologetically took a swing at Mike. Unfortunately for him, there was more than one Mike standing in front of him and he swung at the wrong one. While he was still trying to regain his bearings, Mike spun him around and slapped a pair of cold, metal handcuffs onto his wrists. He had the Marine halfway out of the bar before Jethro barely knew what was happening.

“Let me go!” Jethro demanded. “You can’t arrest me. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Attempted assault on a law enforcement officer,” Mike stated, kicking the door in front of them open and manhandling Jethro over to his vehicle.

“That’s lame and you know it.”

“I’m fine with lame if it gives me an excuse to protect you from yourself, you dumbass. What’re trying to do? Drink yourself to death? That’s not the answer and you know it!”

“Fuck you!”

“No offense, but you’re not my type, Gunny.”

Jethro struggled against his shackles to no avail while Mike got the back door of his car opened then he found himself half sitting, half laying across the seat while Mike slipped in behind the steering wheel. He stopped struggling halfway to Camp Pendleton and was nearly passed out by the time Mike parked in front of the NCIS building. The walk from the car to the holding cell that would have to serve as a drunk tank was a blur and in a matter of minutes Jethro was staring up at the moon from a concrete slab, alone in a dark cell with a single guard standing watch.

A short drive up the coast, Tony was sitting in his room in the house Emily had dropped him off at, staring up at the same moon. He remembered being curled up between Jethro's legs the night before and tried hard not to cry. He may have only known Jethro for less than a day but that was all it had taken for him to start getting attached.

"This your first night as a foster kid?" another boy asked. His foster mother had sent him up to help Tony settle in.

Tony pulled his eyes away from the dark, night sky and nodded unsurely at the other child. He wasn't really sure what foster kid meant but it was his first night there so he nodded yes.

The boy, a little older than Tony, smiled sympathetically and patted Tony on the shoulder. "I'll tell you everything you need to know," the child said.

Tony perked up, happy for any information anyone was willing to give him.

"You gotta look out for yourself," the boy started, "'cause nobody else cares about you. I'm sorry but it’s the sad truth. Don't get too attached to anybody or any place. As soon as you get attached, it'll be time to leave. And the most important rule is to never, never let anybody touch you. That only leads to bad stuff. Got it?"

Tony swallowed hard as fear built inside him. He nodded nervously and responded quietly. "Got it."

“The people you stay with get paid for you to stay with ‘em so that’s how come they let you stay there. Just remember those few rules and you'll be fine," the well-meaning twelve year old said with a perky smile.

Tony felt sick to his stomach as he watched the child go. He turned back to the window, his eyes settling on the moon and let the tears fall silently down his cheeks.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

The loud banging of a heavy aluminum flashlight against the bars of the holding cell had Jethro wishing he could disappear. His head was already pounding and it was getting worse by the second.

“You look like hell, Gunny,” Mike said, “but you look better than ya did last night.”

“I hate you,” Jethro grumbled, rubbing at his temples.

“That’s a shame ‘cause I kinda like you,” Mike replied, feigning insult. He pushed the clothes he’d brought along with him through the bars of the cell. “Change into these. You smell like hell too. I’ll work on gettin’ you outta here.”

Jethro lifted his shirt to his nose and recoiled as soon as he inhaled. He did smell like hell. Of course he’d been wearing the same pants for the last two days, maybe longer, and he could only guess how long the shirt had been hidden away in his truck before he’d put it on the previous day.

Without a second thought about who might be around watching, he tugged his shirt over his head and wiped his armpits with it before tossing it aside. He pulled the t-shirt Mike had brought him over his head and looked down at it as he struggled to get his arms in the sleeves. The letters NIS were written proudly in black letters, standing out in stark contrast against the white cotton.

The jeans Mike had brought him were a pair he immediately recognized from his own house. He tugged them on, sans underwear which were still somewhere in his truck after taking a dip in the Pacific the previous morning and immediately felt a little better. By the time he got his shoes back on, Mike had returned with the key to free him.

“You look like you’d like to clock me,” Mike said in amusement as he stepped aside so Jethro could exit the cell.

“I would,” Jethro admitted.

“Well that’ll have to wait,” Mike replied nonchalantly. “With me.” He crooked a finger as he started walking, beckoning Jethro to follow him.

Jethro stayed one step behind Mike as they made their way through the building, scowling at anyone who dared to look in his direction. When they made it to a much busier room with large windows, a lot of desks and all kinds of activity, Mike pointed in the direction of a vacant desk with a sharp order for Jethro to sit. He sat down across from the man and started fiddling with his computer which soon led to an impressive string of expletives.

After attempting to smack some sense into the machine more than once another agent came over, pressed a single button and seemed to accomplish whatever Mike had been struggling with. The gruff agent walked by the copy machine, grabbed the few pages he'd printed then dropped them in front of Jethro, onto the desk he was sitting at.

"Fill those out."

Jethro looked over the documents and his eyes widened in surprise when he realized what it was. "This is a job application," he stated dumbly.

"What were you expecting? A proposal? I already told you you're not my type, Gunny."

"I just thought it was something to do with my public intoxication charge," Jethro stated, "that's all."

“It’s attempted assault on a federal agent,” Mike corrected, “but I’m a man down, have been for a while. I could use someone with your pigheadedness and obstinate ways. The job is yours if you want it."

“Thanks, I think,” Jethro replied, trying to make sense of what was going on while still feeling horribly hungover. He contemplated the offer, taking into consideration the fact that he was pretty much just a trained killer and that wouldn’t open a lot of doors for him in the civilian world. At least NIS was still working with the military in a sense, which was really all he'd ever known. The impulsivity alcohol gave him had him quickly grabbing the nearest pen and filling out the paperwork. He could be a Navy investigator. He'd already been an MP. This couldn’t be much different.

Besides, he knew he couldn't sit around in bars every night, attempting to drink away the pain of losing his beloved wife and daughter and now Tony. Maybe this was just what he needed to put the past behind him and move on.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Tony sat on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed in another new room, watching nine year old Emmett and eleven year old Cody play with their superhero toys. He’d been put on a big airplane in California and sent back to New York where Margie, an older lady with the same job as Emily in California, had picked him up. She’d been very nice to him and dropped him off a week prior with what she’d called his new family, a two parent home with three biological children, two older boys and an infant daughter.

After watching the boys play for several minutes, Tony cleared his throat. “I can play?” he asked quietly.

“No, you can’t play, Tommy or whatever your name is,” Cody replied harshly. “You’re not our real brother. This game is only for real brothers.”

“Okay,” Tony replied.

Cody and Emmett paused their game and stared at Tony who simply stared right back at them. Tony was scared and more than anything he really just wanted to go home but knew better than to show any weakness to the boys. Footsteps on the stairs broke the tension and moments later Tony’s new foster mom appeared at the door, baby on her hip.

“How are we doing in here, boys?” she asked.

“Good, Mom,” Cody answered.

“Tony, why aren’t you playing with Cody and Emmett? Are you boys letting him play?”

“We tried to get him to play with us but he doesn’t want to,” Emmett answered quickly.

“Oh, okay. Well, have fun. I need to change your sister’s diaper.”

As soon as their mother left, both boys turned their attention back to Tony. Tony perked up, wondering if they were going to let him play after their mother’s visit but instead the boys dragged him off the bed and pushed him out the door.

“And stay out!” Emmett said with a quiet harshness that his mother wouldn’t be able to hear before slamming the door.

“Stop slamming my doors, boys!”

Tony cowered for a moment when he heard his foster mother’s voice then he remembered what the boy at the house in California had told him. _‘You gotta look out for yourself because nobody else cares about you.’_ He swallowed hard before standing and quickly taking off down the stairs before the new lady came to punish him. His father would’ve spanked his butt if he’d been slamming doors at his house and he didn’t want this lady to think he’d slammed the door and do the same. There was no doubt in his mind that the other boys would blame him for it.

Tony slowed his run to a walk and peeked around the doorway of the living room where his foster dad was reading. The man was usually working and had no time for Tony but he didn’t appear to be working at the moment. Tony wondered if maybe the man might read that story to him.

"Who's that lurking around the corner?" the man asked.

Tony poked his head around into view and looked at the man.

"What's up, Tony?"

"Will you read that story to me?" the little boy asked cautiously.

"This isn't a story, pal. This is my work and I really need to finish it. Why don't you go play till dinner?"

Tony opened his mouth to object but once again remembered the words of the foster boy in the last house. The kid had been right. Nobody cared about him. He had to look out for himself but that wasn’t really anything new to him. He’d been doing it most of his life. "Okay," he said instead before turning and heading back down the hallway.

Where was he supposed to go now? He’d been kicked out of his room and the living room. He didn’t want to go in the kitchen and he wasn’t allowed outside without supervision. Where was his real dad? When was the man going to come pick him up and take him home? More than anything, Tony really just wanted to go home.


	2. Come Back to Me

**Part Two: Come Back to Me**

**_One Year Later..._ **

Getting used to the traffic in Washington DC was difficult, even after living in Southern California and traveling around Los Angeles on multiple occasions. Jethro swore under his breath and resisted the urge to deploy his driving finger, but only because taking his hand off the wheel for long enough to do so almost definitely would've resulted in a wreck.

He'd followed Mike to Washington DC a month prior to continue investigating cases for NIS, now NCIS. It hadn't been a difficult decision to follow the man all the way across the country but leaving behind the place he'd called home for the past several years, the last place he'd lived with Shannon and Kelly—that had brought a whole slew of emotions back to the forefront of his mind.

Jethro had returned to the beach he and his family had claimed as their own, the beach a young Tony had wandered over to him on, and spent the night there reliving his past, good memories and painful ones alike and then he'd set out on a cross country adventure.

Now, he was back on the east coast, almost uncomfortably close to the place he'd grown up in, the place he'd run away from so many years ago, fighting traffic, determined not to be late to work again. He could only use learning new traffic patterns as an excuse so many times and get away with it.

Thirty one minutes later, four minutes before he was supposed to be there, he parked in his newly assigned spot and hurried towards the building. He'd easily make it to his desk in the four minutes but he preferred to be there at least ten to fifteen minutes early so he could get settled in before his boss showed up.

Jethro was just getting ready to step out of the elevator on the third floor when Mike intercepted him, turned him around and sent him to get the car. There was a dead petty officer that required their attention in Rock Creek Park. It was time to head back out on the roads that already had his blood pressure skyrocketing and get to work.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Tony stared blankly out the window in his room, looking up at the big moon in the sky while his foster mother—the third one he’d had—sat in the bed next to him, careful to not touch him. Tony didn’t like to be touched. So far the boy in California had been right about everything else so Tony had just started following the kid’s advice without giving anyone a chance to hurt him.

As he looked at the moon, his mind drifted back to the night he’d spent on the beach with Jethro. The moon had been big and bright that night too. He wondered if Jethro was done travelling the world and helping people yet. Sometimes he watched and waited hopefully for the man to come back for him but sometimes the heartache was too much for him to handle and he did his best to just put it out of his mind.

After spending eight months in his first foster home in New York City, Margie determined that he was regressing a lot more than progressing. That mixed with one too many unexplainable bruises from his foster brothers had been all the motivation the older woman needed to move him. ‘Boys will be boys’ could only explain away so many bumps and bruises.

His new family was nice enough. It was just him and a two year old foster sister who sometimes threw temper tantrums but never bothered Tony much. Brett and Katie, his new foster parents, were nice too but Tony still wanted to go home. He didn’t belong there. He didn’t _fit_ in their family and he could feel it plain as day.

Katie watched as Tony’s eyelids started getting heavy, wondering what he was thinking about. The seven year old hated sleep and fought hard against it every night but every night she sat patiently in the bed next to him, hoping her presence would offer some comfort and wishing he’d let her rub his back or stroke his hair.

When Tony’s eyelids slipped closed and didn’t open again, Katie carefully eased herself out of the bed and stepped out into the hallway, leaving the lamp on the nightstand on in case Tony woke, which he almost always did. She hadn’t even made it to the stairs at the end of the hall before the thrashing and pained groans started and she found herself hurrying back to his room.

“Brett!” she called, summoning her husband from the first floor of the house.

The man was up the stairs in a flash and entering Tony’s bedroom right behind his wife, both of them rushing over to the little boys’ bed.

"Tony, wake up, dude," Brett said, gently patting and rubbing the child's chest. "You're having a bad dream, buddy."

"Tony," Katie tried, "Tony, baby, wake up. You're okay, everything’s okay."

Brett picked his thrashing foster child up, trying to calm and comfort him and settled back onto the bed with the boy nestled in his lap. He rubbed the child’s back and repeated his name until Tony finally woke and scurried out of the man's lap and as far away from his foster parents as he could get while still staying on the bed.

"It's okay, Tony," Brett said with a reassuring smile.

"It was just a bad dream, sweetheart," Katie added.

"I'm okay," Tony told them quietly. "You guys can go away."

"Are you sure, baby?"

Tony simply nodded as he rubbed tiredly at one of his eyes and both of his foster parents reluctantly said goodnight to him one more time before leaving him alone. They used to insist on staying and attempting to comfort Tony but they'd quickly learned it only upset him more and made things worse. It broke their hearts to know he probably wouldn't settle down for quite some time.

As the two headed down the hall towards the stairs, Brett gently latched onto his wife's hand and gave it a loving squeeze.

"I'll call Margie," Katie said quietly as she fought back tears. Tony had been with them for over three months and hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep since. They’d worked with his caseworker, a therapist and doctors to try to help him but nothing was working and they were all worried.

"We've gotta do everything we can to help him," Brett replied sensibly. “It doesn't mean we’re giving up on him."

"He's so young. I don't want to see him get lost in a system that's bigger than him."

"I don't either but we can't just sit back and watch while he continues to go downhill. We're not giving up on him, Katie. We're fighting for him."

Katie nodded in agreement as she grabbed the phone off the coffee table. "Thank you for being so strong for me, for all of us."

Brett smiled and nodded, pressing a long, sympathetic kiss to his wife's forehead as she dialed the phone.

"Margie, it's the Katie. Tony's nightmares are getting worse."

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Not for the first time in her long career as a social worker, Margie Patterson found herself frightened for one of the children that she was ultimately responsible for. After another long, sleepless night mulling over everything she knew about Anthony DiNozzo Junior and contemplating her options she felt truly at a loss with the little boy who seemed to be unreachable in a way she’d never seen before but she wasn’t ready to give up on him yet. She just couldn’t.

Margie rubbed tiredly at her eyes as she stood under the hot spray of her shower, her mind still racing. The boy’s father would be no help. The man had grown more and more distant as Tony’s mother got sicker and he’d completely written the child off after his mother had died, ultimately sending his nanny across the country with Tony in tow and strict instructions to drop him off somewhere and let somebody else deal with him. The child had no other relatives but as Margie wracked her brain she realized that maybe there was someone…

The woman let herself smile as an idea bloomed. It was a longshot but she was desperate enough to try anything. She quickly rinsed the soap from her body, dressed and did her hair and makeup before hurrying out the door.

After stopping for a cup of coffee on her way into work and pushing all the other paperwork on her desk aside, she pulled Tony’s file up in the computer and found what she was looking for. There was only a short blurb about the man who’d found Tony in his file but she hoped a phone call to Emily, the boy’s case worker in California, would shed more light on the situation.

The chances of everything lining up and the plan Margie was forming in her head actually working were very slim but if anyone deserved a break, it was little Tony DiNozzo and Margie would do whatever she could to give him that break. She opened a new screen on her computer and typed a name into the search line. She had some research to do while she waited for the California office to open.

Four hours later, the two women were on the phone with each other, sharing notes.

“And Tony spent the night with Leroy Gibbs?” Margie asked, checking the facts that were in Tony’s file.

“He went by Jethro, if I’m remembering right,” Emily corrected her New York counterpart while she quickly scanned her notes to refresh her memory. She’d remembered Tony the instant his picture had popped up on her screen. “They did spend the night together on the beach which sounded strange to Detective Zachariah and I. Why wouldn’t you call the cops if a kid with no parent wandered over to your campsite? We both wondered if Gibbs hadn’t been drinking.”

“I did some digging while I was waiting for your office to open,” Margie said. “It looks like Gibbs had just lost his wife and only child not long before he found Tony. Wouldn’t surprise me if he was drinking.” She couldn’t help but hope the man had put that behind him and moved on with his life. If he’d turned into an alcoholic there was no way she could let Tony visit with him. “I don’t suppose you remember what Tony was like around Gibbs?”

“Tony was attached,” Emily reported. “He cried when it came time for me to take him. I think Gibbs might’ve been a little attached too. He stayed at the police station with the boy, bought him some clothes and a stuffed toy, fed him pizza. If I’d have met them on the street I would’ve bet money that they were father and son. They had that kind of bond.”

“Thank you, Emily,” Margie said, feeling a tiny sliver of hope run through her for the first time in months. “You’ve been a big help.”

“Sure, any time,” Emily replied. “Good luck to you. I hope it all works out.”

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Jethro had just shut his computer down and was getting ready to head home for the day when the phone on his desk started ringing. He lifted it up and tucked it between his shoulder and ear as he stacked the papers on his desk. "Yeah, Gibbs."

"Jethro Gibbs?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked.

"Yeah."

"Ex-Marine?"

"Former. There’s no such thing as an ex-Marine. Who is this?" Jethro asked, taking a break from tidying up his workspace and focusing on the phone call.

"My name is Margie Patterson. I'm with child services in New York City."

"What can I help you with?" Jethro asked, unsure why the woman was calling him.

"I may be out of line contacting you and if so, I'm sorry. Feel free to tell me to shove it. This is truly a last ditch effort."

Jethro narrowed his eyes as the woman rambled but he was busy trying to figure out why she'd be calling him so he didn't interrupt.

"Do you remember the little boy you found on the beach about a year ago?" Margie finally asked.

_A York. Tony_. "Kinda hard to forget something like that," he replied quietly.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to do me a favor,” Margie hesitated before continuing, “to do Tony a favor."

"Me?" Jethro nearly shrieked. Why him? What could he do? “Wait, child services? I thought Tony was back with his dad?”

“Tony’s been in foster care for the last year and he’s been having a rough go of it,” Margie explained. “He’s not connecting with anyone. He unreachable and it’s like he’s shutting down more and more each day. He doesn’t sleep, won’t eat and we’re getting more and more concerned about him but nothing we’ve tried is working.”

"I—I don't understand," Jethro stuttered when the woman paused so he could respond. "I'm not a shrink. I'm not even that good with people. What—what could I do for him?"He still couldn’t believe the boy was in foster care. He’d always just assumed the detective’s guess that Tony had wandered away from his vacationing family was right and after his scary thoughts of kidnapping the child, he’d made a point of not giving it a second thought.

Margie hesitated long enough to offer up a silent prayer before continuing. "I was wondering if I brought Tony to Washington DC, if you'd be willing to sit down with him, talk to him, see if you can make that connection like you did on that beach in California."

Jethro’s eyes got wider and wider as he listened to Margie and her unorthodox request. He was quiet for several long moments while he replayed the woman’s words in his head over and over again. Tony was having a rough time and this lady wanted _him_ , of all people, to play shrink? He hadn’t seen the kid in a year. What if he wasn’t able to connect with him again and he ended up messing Tony up even more? What if he _did_ connect? What would happen to Tony then? It wasn’t fair to rebuild that bond and then send the boy away again. It had been hard enough to let him go the first time. He wasn’t in any position to take care of a child either. He hadn’t even been able to keep his own kid safe.

But Tony was in trouble. Little Tony. Tony who'd stopped him from pulling the trigger and ending his own life. He'd never be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to help the boy.

"What if I agree to meet him and we do, how'd you put it? Make a connection again. Are you just gonna whisk him away, back to New York? It seems like he'd be even worse off and I'd be hurting him more than helping him."

"I've called in a lot of favors and made arrangements to transfer Tony to the Washington DC foster care system should the meeting go well. That way, if you're willing and Tony's interested, you two could continue to see each other. Tony doesn't know I've contacted you, Agent Gibbs. There's no pressure for you to agree to this meeting but I've gotta tell you, right now, you're his best hope."

Jethro inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly as he rubbed a hand across his face. He was sure feeling the pressure Margie wasn’t putting on him. "I want at least two nights with him," he said firmly, "just him and I. Hanging out for a couple hours at some park one afternoon while somebody hovers over us isn't gonna accomplish anything. Do your background checks or whatever but that's my deal."

"I've already done all the checks I need to do on you. You've got yourself a deal."

"Let me know when and I'll be ready."

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Jethro paced back and forth in the living room of his new home in Alexandria, glancing out the window periodically as he waited anxiously for Tony’s arrival. Tony. Little Tony. The boy who’d not only stopped him from ending his own life but who’d also played a part in helping him move on from his own tragic loss. The youngster had done so much for him and now it was time to do something for the little boy and Jethro only had three days to accomplish what seemed like an overwhelming task.

The agent had put in for a three day weekend which his boss had been reluctant to give him until Jethro had explained the situation. He had Friday morning through Sunday evening to work some kind of magic with the child and Jethro Gibbs was the farthest thing from a magician as a person could get. He felt unworthy and completely unqualified. What if he couldn’t connect with the boy? What if he messed him up even more? What if he let Tony down?

Even worse, what if he did find a way to get Tony to open up and then he had to say goodbye again? He was already dreading Sunday evening but he was an adult and understood the complications of life. Tony was just a little guy trapped in adult’s world of laws and rules that he most likely didn’t understand. Jethro realized there were no winners in the situation.

His rambling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming in his driveway. The former Marine waited patiently, watching as Margie got out of her rental car and helped Tony out before he stepped outside and headed towards the pair.

“Hey, big man,” he said softly, smiling at the little boy and pulling him into a cautious hug.

Tony tensed momentarily but the sound of Jethro’s voice and the man’s familiar scent seeped into his subconscious and the boy relaxed in the embrace, remembering that this was the man who’d saved him from a cold, scary night alone on the beach, who’d fed him and clothed him and soothed his hurts before going off to travel the world and protect other people.

Margie watched the exchange with bated breath. She knew how much Tony hated to be touched and was surprised when Tony not only didn’t push Jethro away but melted into the embrace and let the man pick him up and hold him tighter. She closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer of thanks, knowing she’d made the right decision bringing Tony to Washington.

Jethro buried his nose in Tony’s shaggy hair and inhaled the boy’s scent as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. When he felt Tony’s arms reach around him, he rested his cheek on Tony’s head and let the boy hold onto him while he held onto the boy. Tony was a skeleton of the already thin child he’d met on the beach the previous year and the blank, empty look in his eyes worried Jethro. Just looking at him and the condition he was in scared the investigator more than he would’ve liked to admit.

“Remember me?” he asked in a whisper, afraid that if he spoke any louder his emotions might betray him.

Tony closed his eyes and soaked up the affection, even though he knew it was a bad idea. _Never get too attached._ That was one of the rules but this was Jethro. He’d met Jethro before he knew the rules so that didn’t count, right? “Jethro,” he answered in a whisper.

Jethro reluctantly stood the boy back on the ground and squeezed his shoulder lovingly. Part of him wanted to chew out the boy’s social worker for waiting so long but he knew that wasn’t reasonable and he still wasn’t sure he’d be able to help the child. A year was a long time and they’d only spent one night together.

“Come on in,” Jethro said. “I’ve got some chocolate milk waiting for you. Have you had breakfast?” If he had to, he’d spend all weekend shoving food down the kid’s throat.

Tony looked up at the man he’d spent so much time waiting for and was surprised to see that he looked a little nervous. Tony was nervous too. He didn’t know what was going on or what was going to happen and it scared him but he reached out and slipped his hand into Jethro’s as they headed for the front door, trying to let the man know he didn’t have to be nervous. He smiled when Jethro gave his hand a squeeze as he led them into the living room where there was a single, lonely couch and what looked like a handcrafted coffee table.

“I just moved here,” Jethro explained. “Don’t have much yet but I have everything we need.”

Tony didn’t care in the least. He didn’t need anything. He would’ve been happy on another beach somewhere with a bonfire to keep them warm.

Jethro shook up an ice cold bottle of chocolate milk, removed the lid and handed it to Tony before leading Margie into the kitchen to pour her a cup of coffee.

“Do you mind if I give you some advice?” the woman asked, watching as the Marine filled two cups with coffee that would probably be much too strong for her stomach.

“Anything,” Jethro replied. He added some water to one of the cups and handed it to the woman, pointing out the cream and sugar he’d left on the counter for her.

“Be confident,” Margie said. “Some of the best psychologists in New York City haven’t made any progress with Tony. That’s not what he needs. Just be yourself and I think you guys will be just fine. In his eyes, you’re already a superhero.”

“I have no clue what I’m doing,” Jethro admitted.

“Tony won’t let anybody touch him,” Margie told the man. “He’s already let you give him a hug and initiated some hand holding. That’s huge for him. Believe it or not, you’ve made more progress with him in five minutes than anybody else has in the last year.”

Jethro nodded, letting the words sink in as he took a much needed sip of his coffee. He could do this.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Jethro’s eyes drifted back and forth between the road and Tony, sitting right next to him in the cab of his pickup truck. When he’d planned their weekend together, he hadn’t been too sure about what activities Tony might enjoy but after spending the morning with the quiet child, he knew exactly what to do first. He just hoped it worked.

“You doin’ okay?” Jethro asked conversationally. “Need to stop for a potty break? Do you want something to snack on? A drink?”

Tony looked up at Jethro and shook his head. No words. He’d been pretty quiet throughout the hour and a half they’d spent on the road but after the pep talk from Margie in the kitchen, Jethro’s confidence had returned.

He had just pulled off on the exit ramp when Tony’s little voice interrupted the road noise in the cab of the truck.

“Are you done helpin’ people all over the world?” the boy asked.

It took Jethro a moment but he vaguely remembered Detective Zachariah in California explaining to Tony that he had to travel the world and help people. “Yeah, bud,” he answered easily. “Now I live in Washington DC and help people.”

“I live in a York again.”

“How do you feel about that? Do you like it there?” Jethro frowned when he felt the little body next to him tense. He had a general idea of what had been going on with Tony after reading through the child’s file which Margie had faxed to him days before they’d flown down to DC. “You can tell me whatever you want, Tony,” he said gently. “You can tell me anything: your secrets, what scares you, what makes you happy, what you wish for more than anything in the world…” He let his sentence trail off with possibilities and gave the boy’s thigh a reassuring squeeze.

Tony’s eyes dropped to his lap again and found the long fingers belonging to the strong hand that was squeezing his leg and making him feel warm and safe and loved. He was so excited to be with Jethro again but he was terrified that their time together was going to come to an end without warning. The fear caused him to reach out and hold onto Jethro’s forearm as the man navigated them down a long driveway that felt like it was truly in the middle of nowhere.

“Where are we?” Tony asked quietly, avoiding Jethro’s questions.

“My friend lives here but he won’t be home tonight so he said we could stay here,” Jethro answered. “There’s a big lake out back. I thought you and I could camp on the beach again, like we did in California.”

Tony perked up a little at that. Camping with Jethro in California had been one of his most treasured memories and now they got to do it again.

Jethro’s face brightened when he saw Tony’s do the same but before getting out of the truck he wrapped his arm around the child and held him tightly to his side. “You know you can talk to me, right, Tony?” he asked, his lips brushing through the child’s hair before he pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Tony looked up at Jethro, his eyes wide and not even attempting to mask the fear and confusion. “I don’t know what to say,” he replied, sounding more lost than anyone Jethro had ever come across.

"Maybe I can help you with that. Do you have any questions?"

Questions? Boy did he ever have questions! Everything was confusing and so many things had happened to him and the constant moving and living with strangers—some nice and some mean—made him uneasy all the time and that gave him tummy aches. A lot of tummy aches.  He never knew when Margie was going to come and take him away or where he was going to end up or why he had to go to all those different places. He didn’t understand anything that was going on around him but he didn’t know what questions to ask to put his fears to rest.

“Tony?” Jethro cooed gently, trying to ease the boy out of whatever headspace he seemed to have gotten lost in.

“I don’t know,” Tony said on the brink of tears that he was determined not to let escape. “I don’t know!”

“Okay, alright,” Jethro said with a patient smile, “it’s okay. We’ll work on it.”

“I’m sorry.” Tony knew he’d let Jethro down but he didn’t know how to fix it. Everything was so overwhelming.

“Hush now,” Jethro murmured. “Ya got nothing to apologize for, Tony. How about we go set up camp? We’ll figure all this out later.”

Tony wiped roughly at his nose with one hand as the other slipped from Jethro’s forearm down to hold the man’s hand. He still wasn’t letting go. He was never letting go again and he knew that if Margie came back and tried to make him that he just might die.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

"Come here, Tony," Jethro said, waving the little boy over. "I need your help."

A spark of curiosity lit up Tony’s face as he made his way over to where Jethro was kneeling down in front of the small fire pit they’d just dug. The two had set up camp on the beach, near the water’s edge. Jethro moved the child in front of him and showed Tony how to stack kindling and logs in the shallow hole surrounded by rocks, encouraging the boy to help him. Once everything was ready, Jethro pulled out his zippo and lit the fire and both he and Tony watched for a moment at the logs caught and the fire grew.

“Alright, booger, how about some dinner?” Jethro suggested. “Have you ever roasted a hotdog?”

“I ate a hotdog before,” Tony supplied helpfully, watching as Jethro retrieved the roasting sticks and pulled the hotdogs from the cooler they’d packed before setting out on their adventure.

“Not like this, you haven’t,” Jethro told the boy. “Come here, lemme show you.”

The man showed Tony how to skewer his hotdog and waited patiently for the boy to accomplish the task before teaching him to hold it at just the perfect distance above the fire. He was doing his best to mimic their first meeting on the beach in California, hoping it would remind Tony that he could trust him. It was nothing more than a desperate attempt to bring back at least a spark of the little boy he’d first met a year ago, before the world had damaged him so much.

The two enjoyed their meal and finished it off with s’mores, happily indulging until they both got their fill. Once the little bit of food that was leftover had been put away, Jethro sat down and propped himself up against a large rock that he’d cushioned with a pillow to make it more comfortable and after only a moment’s hesitation, Tony settled in between Jethro’s legs.

Jethro wrapped his arms tightly around the boy as they both sat quietly and watched the fire crackle in front of them. Maybe it was working, maybe Tony was remembering. He could hear the little boy's voice all those months ago. _"Jeshro, you tell me a bedtime story?"_ Tony didn't ask that evening but Jethro decided to tell him one anyways.

"Once upon a time there was a sad Marine who met a little boy on a beach kinda like this only it was far, far away," he started. "The little boy didn't know it then, but he saved the Marine's life."

Tony sat quietly, listening intently as Jethro told his story and catching on quickly to what the man saying. He reached for the large hand resting snugly against his belly and wrapped his much smaller fingers around Jethro's. Once Jethro finished his story, the two sat in a comfortable silence until Tony quietly spoke.

"I waited for you to come back to me."

The statement tore at Jethro’s heart in the most painful of ways and he once again found himself feeling inadequate. "I shoulda checked in on you, Tony," he finally said. "I let you down. I'm sorry."

“It’s okay,” Tony said softly. “I understand. It’s ‘cause you were helpin’ people.”

“You needed my help too, Tony. I shoulda helped you.”

“Are you helpin’ me now?”

“I sure hope so,” Jethro answered, moving Tony’s bangs back with the palm of his hand and pressing a kiss to the boy’s upturned forehead.

“Jethro?”

“What, buddy?”

“Are we goin’ fishing in the morning?” Tony asked and just like that Jethro knew he was forgiven. It would take a little longer to rebuild the trust he’d lost but he knew they’d made a lot of progress in a short amount of time.

"You better believe it,” Jethro answered. “We gotta eat something for breakfast.”

Tony held tighter to Jethro’s hand and melted further into his embrace, letting himself relax for the first time in a very long time. He didn’t feel quite so alone anymore, at least for the moment, and that was somehow good enough for him.

Jethro made sure Tony was warm and comfortable then pointed out the North Star and a few of the other constellations. He told the little boy tales of using the stars as a Marine to figure out which way to go and about how he'd camped out under the night sky many times while he was traveling the world, helping people.

Tony soaked in every detail of Jethro's adventures. The man's stories painted vivid images in his head of heroic tales and right then and there Tony secretly decided he wanted to be a Marine too.

Despite the excitement of the stories Jethro was sharing, Tony soon found himself yawning. Jethro's thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly across his chest while his heavy hand rested on his belly was lulling Tony to sleep, slowly at first and then all too fast for the little boy’s liking.

"It's okay," Jethro whispered as Tony continued fighting sleep. "You're safe with me. Close your eyes." He brought his other hand up and rested it lightly over Tony's eyes, closing his lids as his stories turned to a soft hum.

The grip Tony had on Jethro's fingers eventually loosened as the little boy gave in and finally let his body rest while Jethro stayed awake, keeping a watchful eye over him.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

"I want him," Jethro said firmly.

"Wha— you... huh?" Margie asked in confusion. It was just after five o'clock on a Saturday morning and she'd been awakened from a sound sleep by her ringing phone.

"Tony," Jethro explained, "he can stay with me. That's where he belongs. Tell me what I need to do to make that happen, please." He’d been up half the night, partially watching over Tony who was actually sleeping peacefully, and partially contemplating everything that had happened since he’d met the child. They’d both suffered a recent loss and they both kept their feelings about that from the world. It had been partially responsible for turning Tony into an anxious little boy who had trouble sleeping and eating and making connections with the world around him and it had turned Jethro into a cold, unapproachable person who didn’t let anyone in but Tony brought a warmth back to Jethro’s life and Jethro gave Tony peace. It was like the universe had conspired to bring them together.

Margie swung her legs over the side of her bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and trying to wake enough to have a coherent conversation. The desperation in Jethro's voice really struck her and had her wanting to do everything she could for him and the young boy in his care. Unlike the other hopeful adoptive parents that left her wondering, she somehow just knew Jethro and Tony were a perfect match. “I take it things are going well?”

“He’s eating, sleeping, talking to me,” Jethro replied. “If I hadn’t read the file you’d given me and seen how skinny he was, I never woulda known he was having problems.”

“Well that’s certainly good news,” Margie said. “Let me get up and get showered and get into the office and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Margie,” Jethro said sincerely.

“Thank _you_ , Jethro,” Margie replied with a smile in her voice.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Tony traced the plaid pattern on one leg of the shorts he was wearing as he sat next to Jethro in the cab of the truck. They were on their way home after their night of camping under the stars and the quietness of the journey had left Tony with a lot of time to think. “Jethro?” Something had really been troubling him and he wasn’t going to ask at first but curiosity had won out.

“Yes, Tony?” Jethro flipped on his turn signal and merged back over into the slow lane after passing a semi-truck.

“Do I stay with you now?”

Jethro hesitated momentarily, wondering where Tony was headed with this line of questioning. Had he heard the phone call to Margie earlier that morning? “You are for this weekend,” he answered.

“Well, do you get money for me?”

“What do you mean, booger?” Jethro asked, trying to figure out what Tony was trying to ask him. He could usually figure it out but this one was puzzling him.

“Do you get money for me?” Tony asked again, frustrated with his inability to reword his question so that Jethro would understand. He kept thinking about what his very first foster brother in California had told him about people getting paid to let foster kids stay with them and he couldn’t help but be curious if that was why Jethro was letting him stay with him now.

“Do you need some money, Tony? Is there something you’d like to buy? We can go to the store.”

“No,” Tony answered, shaking his head and pulling at his hair in frustration. “Do you get money ‘cause I stay at your house now?”

“No, bud, I don’t but that’s why I have to go to work some days. They pay me to do a job and they give me more than enough money to take care of us. Are you worried we don’t have enough money? Because we have plenty and if you need or want something all you gotta do is tell me.”

“I don’t stay with you so you can have money?”

Jethro’s heart sank when he finally realized what Tony was trying so hard to ask him. He wrapped his arm around the child and pulled him into a tight embrace. “No, Tony. You’re here with me because I love you and because this is where you belong. You’re my family, buddy, and families gotta stick together. ‘kay?”

The tension left Tony’s body and a smile crept across his face as Jethro pressed a playful, sloppy kiss to his cheek. He felt much better. “Okay.”

“Any more questions?” Jethro asked curiously. So far Tony’s questions had been trickling out slowly and Jethro wanted to make sure he gave him every opportunity to get all the answers he needed.

“Yeah,” Tony answered with a nod of his head but the boy stayed quiet. He wasn’t ready to ask another one yet.

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

For the first time in his seven years on earth, Tony actually felt normal. At least he suspected grilling steak in the backyard with his favorite person in the world was what normal felt like.

Jethro wrapped his hand around Tony's on the tongs and helped him flip the steaks on the grill, teaching him to check for the doneness of the meat by giving it a quick little poke. He helped Tony rotate the corn on the cob which they'd put on earlier then closed the lid to let their dinner finish cooking.

"You look troubled, buddy," Jethro said as they sat in the Adirondack chairs overlooking his backyard while they waited. "Anything I can help with?" The boy had asked question after question and Jethro had listened patiently and answered them as best as he could, watching as each answer provided the child a little more peace of mind.

Tony sat quietly, working up his courage and trying to figure out which question to ask next. He felt like he hadn’t asked Jethro any of his hard questions yet. “Jethro?”

“Hmm?”

“Where’s my dad?”

“I don’t know, Tony,” Jethro answered honestly.

“Well, why do I have to keep moving to new houses? Ms. Margie keeps telling me those peoples are my new family but I don’t think they are. They don’t feel like my family. Why do I have to keep living with strangers? Why can’t I go home? How come my dad isn’t coming to pick me up and take me home?” Tony cocked his head at Jethro, looking a bit like a lost and confused puppy with big green eyes that bored right into Jethro’s soul.

“I think Ms. Margie’s just trying to find you the perfect family, Tony,” Jethro answered unsurely, “one that feels right.” He hoped to God that _he_ was that family. The woman still hadn’t called him back after he’d awakened her at five o’clock that morning.

Tony took a moment to mull over the answer before his next question came out. "What's gonna happen to me next?"

"Next?"

"Do I have to leave you again? Where will I go? What's gonna happen to me? Will you visit me? Do I _have_ to leave?"

No wonder Tony was such a mess. Jethro realized the boy was terrified and confused and felt completely alone. “Come here, bud,” he said, summoning Tony out of his chair to sit on his lap. He’d been waiting to tell the boy about his conversation with Margie in case it didn’t go like he’d hoped but it was quickly becoming clear that the kid needed something solid that he could hold onto. He needed to know that Jethro was on his side and had already started fighting for him.

And if things didn’t work out through the proper legal channels, there was always Mexico, Jethro told himself.

Jethro settled the child comfortably in his lap and rested his chin lightly on top of Tony’s head merely because of the added closeness. “I’ve been talking to Margie about what’s gonna happen to you, kiddo. I’m waiting for her to call me back.” He watched as Tony seemed to accept the answer, even though it wasn’t much of an answer. "I'm trying to make it so you don't ever have to leave me again. Would that be okay?"

Tony turned and looked Jethro directly in the eyes, seemingly searching for something in the man’s gaze. “That would be the best of all,” the little boy answered. His heart leapt at the possibility but he still couldn’t help but be confused. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t just stay with the man, especially if Jethro wanted him and was done traveling the world and helping people. What did Margie have to do with it?

“It’s not for sure yet, Tony,” Jethro said cautiously, “but if for some reason you do have to go away again, I’ll make sure to come visit you and make sure you’re doing okay, alright?”

Tony's eyes turned downcast and his voice was just barely above a whisper. "I don't wanna go away again."

Jethro wrapped the boy in a tight hug and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I don't want you to either, Tony."

**NCIS | NCIS | NCIS | NCIS**

Despite it not being very late in the evening, Jethro and Tony were sacked out on the couch watching an old John Wayne western when Jethro’s phone started ringing. He ignored his initial reaction to let the answering machine pick up the call when he remembered he was expecting a call from Margie and instead grabbed it and headed towards the kitchen, telling Tony he’d be right back.

“This is Gibbs.”

“Jethro, it’s Margie. I’m sorry it took me so long to get back with you but I’ve spent all day finagling and I’m just now getting somewhere.”

“Thank you,” Jethro replied sincerely. “What’d you find out?”

“I’ve filled out the paperwork for Tony’s emergency placement with you under the guise of it being for his own mental wellbeing, which isn’t really much of a guise. The paperwork needs your signature, stating you agree to Tony being placed with you and it’ll be dependent on me doing a home visit and making sure Tony’s doing okay.”

“Okay, all that sounds good but what about his long term placement.”

“That’s where you have a decision to make. You can either foster him, in which case he’ll have a social worker in DC checking in on him and you’ll receive money from the state to help care for him or you can adopt him which would give you all the rights of a birth parent. You don’t have to make the decision today. There’s time to think abo—”

“I wanna adopt him,” Jethro interrupted. He knew what was right, he knew what Tony needed and he knew where the boy belonged. There was no reason to draw things out unnecessarily.

“Okay,” Margie said. “It’ll be a little bit of a process but I’ll walk you through it.”

After hanging up the phone with Margie, Jethro poured himself another cup of coffee and put it in the microwave to warm it up just a bit. As his cup spun around and around in the microwave, it felt like his mind was doing the same thing in his head. It was really happening. More accurately, it had already _happened_.

Sure, there was paperwork and formal legal proceedings but unless anything really strange happened, Tony would never be out of his care again. The boy who seemed to trust no one else in the world would now forever be looking to him for love and acceptance, wisdom and guidance and it would be Jethro’s sole job to give it to him.

The dinging microwave broke through the man’s thoughts and after grabbing his cup of coffee, he rejoined Tony on the couch.

The little boy scooted closer and propped himself up against Jethro’s body, resting his head on the man’s chest and reveling in the closeness. Tony knew Jethro cared about him in a genuine way that simply couldn’t be manufactured because it was his duty and after growing up with a fake for a father, Tony had always been drawn to genuine.

“That was Margie on the phone,” Jethro said, wrapping his arm around Tony.

Tony’s breath caught, wondering if the news was good or bad. He hadn’t had much luck with good news lately which had seriously jaded his view of the world. Was she on her way to take him away again? Was she going to let him stay with Jethro, like they both wanted?

“She says she’s gonna come visit us and make sure everything’s okay and then you can stay here with me, if you want to.”

“I want to,” Tony replied quickly. “I want to. I really want to.”

“Okay, it’s okay,” Jethro said with a reassuring smile. “We’re gonna make that happen, Tony. We’ll do whatever it takes. After Margie visits us, she’s gonna make it so you can have my last name and nobody can ever take you away from me again. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I’m never afraid when I’m with you,” Tony told the man. “I’m only afraid of somebody taking me away from you again.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore. We’re gonna make it so that can’t happen.”

Tony threw both arms around Jethro and buried his face in the man’s chest in an effort to hide his tears but as relief washed over him there was no stopping the flood of emotion that came. Jethro didn’t seem to mind though because the man simply held him tighter and pressed kiss after kiss to the top of his head. It was the beginning of their new life together, the little boy who the world had given up on and the Marine who’d given up on the world, and a second chance neither of them would waste.

**The End**


End file.
